London_Girl
Age: 124
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Window
In common daylight glass is reflective windows opaque to the outside world only blameless blue adhering to the surface
Then comes the sun’s low shame shadows fall ragged leaf shapes tugged by desperate children’s whispers cast those dark stains on the glass
open unspoken interiors where fingers poke crevices and apportion blame rocking-horse laughs with terror in the night
Daddy hid his memory in this ill-smelling sac Don’t tell! Daddy’s drawstring tastes so bad the life-sac he gave me is too dirty light fights shy cruel empty window, no-one peeping.
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More love and other poems Summer, Winter poems Anti-war poems
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Earth At nine point eight meters per second per second Earth clasps us to her bosom In response we spurn her with our heels like teenagers at home
Where else will we go --? Out with our friends to a club on Io and next morning, when all the garish cans of flat fizz contain ash and God knows what, What gentle curved horizon will we press our drooping cheek to and snore like babes?
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
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Fog Whiteness glimmers in Dawn bends through the pane Fog, soft as cobwebs Clinging Close as a lingering ache, or Rejected love Mournful, ashen cheeked Muted, beautiful, Leeching naïve day To congealed moonlight -- Milky wormwood memory Warm breath once shared
Mist on the mirror Atomized shimmering droplets Breath on a cold silver mirror Mist
London_Girl
Age: 124
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Air Force The sky is broken Cracked by screaming, careless jets Harsh military angles Pierce ancient, unassuming nimbus Trailing ragged water vapor scrags
Three or four of these Arrested at the planning stage And melted down for human kindness Could gurgle pure and crystal water Five billion spilling mouthfuls the world over Make bonny leaping five year olds Where now are only Graves of tiny bones.
London_Girl
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The Daisy Cutter
Daisy, Daisy give me the head of John the Baptist or another bearded fanatic
The Taliban favor the hirsute but we are good Christian folk and our chosen are smooth-chinned
Daisy, Daisy immolate the hairy ones cleanse their ethnic dust of hens, children, terrorists and unseen wives
vaporize their souls, their spleens, eyeballs, tongues and tender parts collect the charred bone fragments for the charity of the Red Cross for the Cross is our symbol
We may not get our man, but by God, Daisy, we’ll get someone
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
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Sanctity A poem of the Iraq War Dedicated to George W Bush Slicing through clear spring skies the belly of the craft dilates the crowning missile tip seeks out the cradle of civilisation sheltered between its parent riverbeds
A young woman down in the green valley half smiling, hand on belly turns to tell her husband -- their new life! she felt it, dancing the imaginary path from dawn to end of time she reaches for his hand to share, as luck would have it, the bloody moment of extinction.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
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Teenage Suicide I thought of dying gazing into the black, seductive ice water so glassy and so tranquil I thought of dying but in my place Death's bony embrace clutched listless children gnawed by hunger; prisoners on death row detritus of their own childhoods; poor shepherds grazing blunt-toothed animals on landmined hillsides
I thought of dying, to throw myself away so much landfill If it's no use to me I could give it I can holler with my lungs at injustice join hands in protest at brutality I realized that I had long been dead but I could choose instead to reawake and be alive for them
Anxious We fold our hands anxiously Breathing short little breaths Things flash past the windscreen Catching the corners of our eyes There's something round the next bend I've been here before In a tight seatbelt I recall Something round the bend
London_Girl
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Ophelia
My eyes are stones you told me truth but by dawn beauty had fallen from sight these stones are in league with gravity and green water gurgles over fathoms deep where I lie about the truth I lie in weeds washed back and forth tangled, knotted, decaying and those are stones that once were pearls
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
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Winter One day when it's winter When the tall oak groans in northern winds When cruel frost creeps white beneath the bark And twigs once sappy and green Shake brittle and dry in the darkening
Then come to my door Let yellow light spill out Let me wrap you in warm Let summer kisses bring back roses
What wingspan glides in the blue August skies Soar and circle Paired in gentle harmony, one other Melt, then-- Be with me
London_Girl
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Autumnal Fading grass gleams low in yellow light fluffed-up squirrels dig and disagree quiet mushrooms shoulder fallen leaves brown and fallen gold for a day, -- yesterday
russet cranesbills startle, and disown their other season before the soggy moth-webs clustered naked twigs
curving fronds of white anemones earnest little faces bent in morbid fascination as all around, gathered to the distance twisted in their minor throes of death lie leaves, collateral damage of the promised spring.
London_Girl
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Rain When it rains The soft grey sky Drifts to the ground Brown rivulets Trickle away Trickle away Washing sadness down Weather vanes Weep and turn Weep and turn Forgetting in the damp and grey That by and by The sun will shine Sun will shine By and by The sun will shine.
Summer I Humming in the blue The plane and bird The honey bee Humming in the grasses Rasping and whispering heard Not far, An anxious city siren passes Whining of machinery Click and hum: air condition Many-legs and two-feet Living on the surface Harmoniously.
How small the Earth is - A tiny globe, with drops of browning sea.
London_Girl
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Spring song Singing liquid notes In the green bud tree A willow warbler Welcomes the sun on the old wall Its song melts away The long grey winter Sing of sweet hope Let no late frost Stop its trilling throat
London_Girl
Age: 124
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Mother's Day
The damp brown earth invites my New roots Was it you, Mama, Who showed me this? You bandaged my grazed knee And told me the names of flowers
My children pull at my hands They want to help with digging All the small remembered hours Seeds of memory Your face is soft with time As mine will be Time grows like the rings of the oak I tell my children The names of flowers
London_Girl
Age: 124
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Spring A little breath A green shoot thrusting through the snow Ice-crusted, part-crushed, But astonishing green From crouching, dark desolation Incarcerated Secret root resistance crept Radiant defiance At slightest thaw springs A forgiveness of melting One trickling drop of icicle Rolls down the prisoner's grey face Now he will clamor with the dawn chorus And dare to shout out Reprieve! Reprieve!
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
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Tent Screams from the ice-cliff hideous wind incisors slice arching knife edge blocks above my arctic tent restrained uncertainly by rocks where I feign sleep in whitened darkness
but then -- a murmur of feathers some light cursing at the limited tent space and a glow as warm as song announce an angel’s presence and his strong arms gather me where I can drink his hot tears and, soothed by his rythmic pulse tenderly evaporate like breath
London_Girl
Age: 124
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Air Up in the blue, You are breathing the air Of frequent flyers
Swirling molecules Microbial cyclones Volatile cologne Bacteria Each receptive alveole Penetrated and vacated By parts of strangers
Why are you winnowed from me For this dull Promiscuous ventilation? Press your mouth again to mine Inhale, sweet As rain-washed wishes Rich, desirous, earthy kisses.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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Snow I dreamed of snow in August Its quiet embrace Holding us white and unconnected to the world A floating dream of kisses and snowflakes
* * * Icy hexagons are stacked up on my sill No footstep in the drifts The harsh metallic ring resounds Of spade on frozen ground Bow your head Here comes a hearse And on it lies my heart, still warm
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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Location:
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Storm The whole air is conspiring and ravening thunder rumbles your image turns in my head obscure as dark, rolling clouds
Lightning curls, flickers piercing
Yes, I long for your hand on my damp skin a hot breath enters my window -- a gasp, then sweet, hard raindrops sweet, hard raindrops to wet the needy earth
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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I want you to miss me There could be fog Or maybe just a mist And inexplicably I'll fade to white Vanish, and be gone
Or it could be night And I'll be darkly dressed, Evading easy definition And as your eye's distracted By a falling leaf I'll merge with restless shadows And be gone
Then you will discover What emptiness is
A space so hollow Even its own walls are swallowed up
A quality of missing So intense A lack, a lack
Each hour more bottomless than the last Until your heart cries out, A howl of forfeiture
But it will be nothing Ashen silence where I used to sing And deafness
The howl must strike the right resonant frequency A wail that echoes all to the ends of time To fill the gaping void in whole, looping wavelengths From the well of your soul, such loneliness To make Siberian wolves hang heads for shame In their convivial packs
Then, only then Might you detect my footprints, indistinct Marking the morning dew fall
Perhaps glimpse a puff of breath in the cold, dawn air
You must utter A howl so desolate, it
Jerks you from your sleep To find me warm beside you on your pillow
And you will know how Close you were to the brink Of the abyss
London_Girl
Age: 124
6855 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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Voicemail It's here The space where you should be Bend your ear Let my kisses whisper in Do not fear My arms make a strong O As all through the centuries Lovers have been cradled. Listen, soft! Ten thousand-volt desire Sears my heart Don't give me e-mail, voice mail Or any other means of separation Be here and touch me My need for you is nothing virtual But real
